


On days like this

by RoseVered



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseVered/pseuds/RoseVered
Summary: After the capture and death of Nightwing, Barbara Gordon gives up her life as Batgirl and tries to live a normal life.





	1. Chapter 1

On days like today there were short moments when I really pitied not being a masked vigilante any more. Starting with the morning, when I missed the bus, so I had to stop the taxi in order not to come late to work (again). Continuing through lunch, when somebody really apt spilled their cup of coffee on my blouse and I spent most of 1 hour lunch break in the rest-room trying to undo the damage (in vain). And in the evening both of my backpack´s shoulder straps broke – honestly, I was not very surprised by that, given the fact I usually have it literally bursting with books. Anyway, that didn´t improved my mood much either.

In short, there once was a time, when on days like today goons and criminals of Gotham had to be extra cautious. Especially not to cross me even more. Even Bruce then observed me more warily then usual, and…

No, I have to stop it right here. I must not think about… About green, red and yellow. About black and blue. Blue. Radiant blue of his…

Anger and frustration transformed into intestines-eating sorrow without me even noticing. Sorrow that threaten to rip my heart out of my chest.

It was a miracle I managed to let myself cry only after the doors of my apartment slam shut behind me. I blindly kicked my shoes off of my feet, hanged my jacket without looking, backpack was just dropped down on the floor from my weary arms.

I fell into my favourite armchair in the corner of the living room, curling up into a ball. I felt hot tears on my cheeks, and only being considerate toward my neighbours prevented me from howling loudly. I dug my face into my forearm, trying to muffle sobs.

After some time the wave of sorrow began to cease. What remained was dull pulsing numbness, feeling of emptiness and loneliness.

I wiped my eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of my jumper and my perfectionist me just sarcastically smirked with "good it´s dark one" thought.

I sighed, got up from the armchair and headed for the balcony door. While I was crouching on the armchair, it got dark outside. Streetlights went on, the city woke up to her night life.

I left the door ajar, allowing pleasant breeze in, and I drew the curtains. Fifth floor or not, I just felt better like that, more private.

I entered the bathroom to wash my hands and face. I watched myself in the mirror and had to grimace. Amazing sight. Smudged mascara, red eyes, red nose, red cheeks. Cute.

On my way back to the living room I picked up my torn backpack I previously left lying on the floor, next to the door. I have to move my things in something else, and what´s more important, find my phone. If something really didn´t change with years, then it was my inability to get up when the alarm-clock first sounds, not mentioning incapability managing it without any alarm clock altogether.

I opened the cupboard and started to rummage through its bigger lower drawer, where I use to keep various backpacks, bags and handbags. It has to be somewhere…

My fingers brushed on something hard and square. Curiously I dug my arm even deeper and gripped… a photoframe? I pulled it out of the drawer.

No. No more, not today, I begged inwardly. Shocked, I stared at the picture. Me and… him, hugging each other, wide smiles on both our faces, eyes sparkling with happiness. Since… that day I didn´t look at it. I swept it off the cupboard into the drawer, tossed pile of stuff on it, forgot it. Until now.

I knelt in front of the cupboard, photo in my hands, and felt new tears flooding my eyes. I stroke the face on the picture with my thumb, bright blue colour of his eyes well visible even in spite of the small format and dim light in the room.

"Dick.." I whispered. For the first time in I don´t know how long I said his name. "Dick..."

"Babs."

OK, so as a cherry on the top we have auditory hallucinations here. Paranoid schizophrenia? Age would fit, family history of mental disease… Or I just simply finally broke down.

"Babs!"

My head snapped up, I turned to the left from where the voice came.

In the doorframe there stood… It´s not possible, can´t be.

"Barbara, breathe," he remarked mockingly, head tilted to side, as he usually did when taunting me. I could definitely see his amused, a bit crooked smile. Only now I noticed my head is starting to swim. I quickly took a breath and simultaneously closed my mouth – my jaw dropped nearly down to the floor.

Two steps, in a moment he knelt in front of me, his arms slightly raised, as if he didn´t know what should he do.

I didn´t hesitate for a second. I threw myself into his arms and drew him near. It took about a heartbeat to him before he hugged me, stroking my back with one hand, as I sobbed uncontrollably, face hidden in the sweater on his chest.

God, his scent. I didn´t know you can miss even someone´s scent so much.

"Babs, I… am sorry," he stuttered. "I…"

I pulled away from him only that far, so I could look into his eyes.

"Kissing now. Talking later" I smiled through tears.

He smiled too, dazzling ´Dick Grayson smile´ full strength. He wrapped one arm around my waist, buried the second in my hair and kissed me gently.


	2. Chapter 2

Did I mention already I am not an early bird? Well, the end is probably really nigh.

I woke up by the sunrise. I lied in my bed and tried to find out why is this silly smile on my face. What did I dream about?

And then I remembered. And the smile grew wider. Had anybody seen me, he´d have to consider me being Joker toxin victim.

Cuddled in warm blanket I replayed yesterday´s evening in my head again and again. How Dick took me in his arms and soothed me. How he sat, with me still in his arms, in the armchair – I just refused to let him go. How he whispered something in my hair, until I fell asleep.

Where is he now? I quickly turned around to my other side.

Second half of my double bed looked the same as always. Pile of clothes waiting to be ironed. Another pile of books. Mobile phone.

Sighting, I reached out for it and checked the time, trying to chase away the tears welling in my eyes by blinking. He was gone. Good old sorrow creeping back in my heart.

Well, no time to mourn, job is calling.

I kicked the blanket aside, so I could hop out of the bed. Suddenly I froze. There was a loud banging and clattering coming from the kitchen, followed by murmured swearing.

Aaand smile back on.

"Dick Grayson! Step away from the stove, hands above your head! I have a fluffy slipper and I will use it!" I shouted, after tiptoeing into my small kitchen.

Dick´s startled expression was worthless. As well as the smile that lit his face.

"I repeat: Drop the pan and step away from the stove," I said and tried to look menacing. But the corners of my lips were twitching.

"I´m sorry, ma´am, I just wanted to make breakfast," Dick pouted, his eyes sparkling. Carefully, as if holding the gun, he laid the pan on the stove, stepped aside and showed me empty hands.

I lowered the hand in which I was holding really very fluffy slipper. In that very moment Dick jumped at me, hugging me tightly. "Good morning," he whispered.

I left myself to bask in the moment for a while, and then I broke free from his arms.

"I am having a shower. You -" I dug finger in his chest - "touch nothing." I thought for a moment. "All right, tea here, coffee here, mugs there. You are allowed to use jug kettle," I gave him the permit nobly.

"Yes, ma´am," he bowed mockingly, and when he straightened up, he was grinning again.

I sighted, rolling my eyes and I walked away to the bathroom. But I was almost floating with happiness.

Teeth, shower, make-up, I think I´ve set a new world record. Even though I have to admit it was partially out of fear what disaster could Dick inflict in the kitchen. Seriously, I am impressed he didn´t manage to burn his apartment in Blüdhaven to the ground yet…

When I came out of the bathroom, dressed in dark trousers and blouse, hair pinned up in a bun, the coffee smelled in the kitchen, and it looked the room survived. Dick sat at the table, smiling warmly. I sighted with a smile. I could really get used to this.

I threw two slices of bread into the toaster and took the butter, jam and hard-boiled eggs out of the fridge.

We sat across the table, Dick unusually quiet. I spread butter over my toast mindlessly, then I spoke nonchalantly at last. "So… what are you going to do today? I suppose you are still officially… err..." "Dead." "Yeah, so I guess you can´t just go strolling through the city."

"I am a master of disguise," he smirked, but quickly grew solemn again. "Well, you know, I have to..."

"Go see Bruce, I get it. He should know you are..." A hint of guilt in his eyes was short, but noticeable.

"He knows already," I said dryly. Of course, he´s the Batman. "How long..." I fell silent again, unable to speak. No, he didn´t! But, he did.

I stared, breathless for a moment. "I´m gonna kill him! How could he do it to you? How could he do it to us? To your family. To his family?" I hissed angrily. Not even Catwoman would be ashamed of me.

"All right, we´ll talk later. We all will," I added ominously. God, I really hope I´ll get mugged on my way home. I need to punch something.

"OK, I gotta go. You do… whatever you need to do, here´s the spare key, so please lock the door. And tell Bruce, I´ll be in the Manor at eight." I narrowed my eyes. "You know, you both should get prepared for some serious explaining. It´s not just me, but Alfred. Damian..." Definitely the guilt, darkening his blue eyes. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

I quickly finished my toast and coffee, hesitated for a moment, and I kissed him softly. Then I stormed out of the apartment, pushing back angry tears. This is so me. The best day of my life and it turns to a disaster. And it hasn´t even started.


End file.
